is it still me that makes you sweat
by PanicWithAsh
Summary: It's almost torturing what he's doing to himself, but he settles again, feeling his breathing come out in gasps more than actual full breaths. He wipes some sweat from his forehead as he moves the arm that was keeping him just leaned against the bench so he was fully laying down on the cold metal. PWP. Ambrollins. Kayfabe Compliant.


_World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy._

**_Warnings: rimming, masturbation, explicit sexual content, PWP._**

* * *

><p>Seth is in a very dangerous situation; a dangerous situation that he put himself in. It's nothing related to the storm of enemies he had created for himself throughout his years in the Shield and since he had disbanded from his older brothers, it's not anything with the Authority, it's nothing related to wrestling in general. In fact, the dangerous situation that he finds himself in is with him back in the safety of his locker room. It might not sound too dangerous, but the situation in which he finds himself trying to release some built-up tension is something that anyone could walk in on, which made it dangerous to him.<p>

His pants are sprawled on the ground below him as he leans back on the metal bench of his locker room, cheeks flushed a delicious pink as he runs his own fingers along his chest. His fingers tease along his nipples slowly, pinching and rolling them in a way that makes him arch into his own touch. His breathing is hitching and shallow, his throat working on silent noises that he suppresses, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He was almost ashamed to find himself in this position, with his shaft swelling with blood and hardening slowly under his own teasing.

It was all Dean Ambrose's fault, even if he didn't know it. Just the sight of Dean after not being able to put his hands on him since Hell in a Cell had lit a fire inside of Seth that had to be put out immediately, on his own. Except his attempt at just a quick jerk-off session had proven to do no good, so here he was. His two-tone hair was already sticking to his forehead where a light sheen of sweat dwelled on his skin, little beads of it forming over his entire body. He felt heated from the inside out.

His shaft hardens more as he trails his own fingers in a feather-light touch down his abdomen, making barely audible and breathy noises, pleas, as he does. He runs them down his stomach, then up again, then down his sides. He's shivering and squirming under his own touch and whimpers as he slowly rakes his own nails down his skin ever so slightly. His hips cant up, looking for the ghost of someone there. Of course, there is no one, and the head of his shaft just rubs against his abs, making him jerk up some.

It's almost torturing what he's doing to himself, but he settles again, feeling his breathing come out in gasps more than actual full breaths. He wipes some sweat from his forehead as he moves the arm that was keeping him just leaned against the bench so he was fully laying down on the cold metal. It's a strong contrast to his heated skin that has him shifting until he's comfortable, but then he pulls a small tube of lube from his bag and decides to get down to business.

As he slicks up his hand, Seth bites his lip. The anticipation was nearly killing him and it felt like he was about to explode if he didn't touch himself soon. He can't remember the last time that he felt like this, besides maybe in middle school. He's breathing out shakily, tracing just a finger along his shaft, his hips jerking up in need. He thinks he's dragged this out just about long enough. Slowly and tentatively, he wraps his slick hand fully around his length and gives it a slow and long stroke. With that stroke comes a soft moan and his head thumps back hard against the metal bench, making a fairly noticeable sound.

He hopes, idly, that there is no one near who would be able to hear him. Then, all thought is thrown out the window when he begins a deliberately slow pace at stroking himself. Seth has always been a patient man and with an earlier orgasm, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. He wanted his orgasm to overtake him and leave him feeling like jelly, just like they would after a night with Dean. The movement of his hand stutters some at the thought of the Lunatic Fringe, a gasp passing his lips.

He could almost imagine him being here. Short, unruly hair in between his fingers as their lips collide. Sharing the same air as they kiss. Fingers squeezing just hard enough to leave bruises in places no one but them would look. A smirk against his lips as he pulls back, murmuring a soft tease as he wraps his fingers _around Seth's shaft_.

"Dean," Seth moans out by mistake, his fingers picking up speed for just a moment before he forces them to slow again, lost in his own little world. He doesn't even hear the locker room door opening – with none other than the man of his fantasies coming in uninvited because he happened to hear his name. The sight in front of the Lunatic Fringe perked his interests, connecting dots and smirking to himself as he closes the door. It still doesn't catch Seth's attention, so he decides to just wait it out to see what else Mr. Money in the Bank would do.

His breathing is picking up, somehow become even shallower than it had been before. His fingers pause, his thumb teasing away at the head of his shaft. It makes him give a full-body shudder, a shaky sob of desire leaving his throat. Dean would be lying if he said it wasn't just about the hottest thing that he's ever walked into a locker room to find. He's surprised he's able to keep his hands to himself so far. The only thing that he really wants to do is go to Seth and take over. It seems that the man was handling himself brilliantly so far, though. Why would Dean ever want to interrupt the Authority's little puppy when he was having so much fun?

"_Please_," Seth gasps out, his hips rolling up again as his strokes continue. "Oh God, _Dean._" It was a fantasy in Seth's own mind that drew the words from him which is what leads Dean to finally beginning to take the steps forward. The sound of footsteps is what draws Seth out of his fantasy and he opens his eyes quickly. When he looks over and sees the actual _Dean _in the flesh, he feels his cheeks begin to flare in embarrassment. "Oh shit," is the only thing he can even think of saying as he forces himself to sit up immediately.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Dean is saying smoothly, a smirk playing on his lips and Seth really just wants to kiss him. "Really, I just heard my name and decided to… _investigate_. You understand." Seth really does, his fingers curling tighter around his shaft and giving a slow stroke, gaining Dean's attention lower. Dean bites his lip slowly and Seth gives a soft noise as the taller man closes the distance between them, dropping to a kneel in front of Seth. "Is this a good time to tell you that you look good or would that be reserved for a time when you have clothes on again?"

Seth doesn't answer, he just grabs Dean's chin with his free hand and pulls him into a kiss. The kiss is dirty and messy from the start, Dean's hands gripping Seth's thighs and pushing them apart as his tongue fucks into Seth's mouth. Their tongues curl together and Seth moans helplessly against his hips when Dean scratches his nails down his thighs.

It's as Dean hooks his hands under Seth's thighs that Seth begins to wonder what the other might have in mind. It's when Dean is pulling away from the kiss that Seth decides that he doesn't like whatever Dean has in mind. Well, that's true until Dean is giving him a blunt warning of, "watch your head," before he's yanking on Seth's thighs. They are pulled off the bench and over Dean's shoulders, causing Seth's back to smack against the metal of the bench. He arches up, having to quickly move a hand to protect the back of his skull.

"Fuck, thanks for the warning," Seth huffs as he tries to find a way to be comfortable in the new awkward position. All complaints fly quickly out the window when he feels a tongue lave along the skin of his thighs though. His legs hook behind Dean's head and his hand is returning to his own shaft, stroking in anticipation. He had a feeling what Dean had in mind now.

"What can I say? I'm a great guy," Dean murmurs, Seth tensing some and arching just when he feels Dean's hands suddenly spread his cheek, his breathing ghosting over his pucker. "A great guy who is about to help you get off."

"_Please_," Seth is begging again, his free hand reaching to try and clutch at Dean's hair. The attempt proves to just make the metal press into his back and cause pain, so he gives up. He ends up arching wildly when he feels the first tease of Dean's tongue, though. They didn't do this _often_, really. Each time was… _special_, for lack of another word. It always lit Seth's nerves on fire, caused a roaring of _want _and _desire_ to roll in his gut. His hand picks up speed without his consent, resulting in a sharp bite to his thigh from Dean.

"Slow," Dean growls at him and Seth scowls. Who was Dean fucking Ambrose to think he could boss him around? He was going to pay for that, but in the future. Right now, Seth slows his hand and rocks his hips in a silent demand. Dean is quick to comply, his tongue flattening over Seth's entrance and giving a slow but firm lick.

Seth's body trembles as he makes a soft noise, his toes curling already, biting his lip to silence himself. The last thing they needed was for someone to walk in and find them like this. It would be more than just a little hard to explain.

Seth's body felt like it was being lit on fire as his panting returns, Dean's tongue going to work in steady and firm licks and gentle nips to his thighs when Seth begins to get too loud. Seth is arching almost permanently and nearly comes entirely off the bench when Dean points his tongue and pushes it just past the ring of muscles. "_Oh shit_," Seth gasps, thighs tensing together, tightening around Dean's head for just a second before he forces them to relax again. A look at Dean reveals a smug and amused look in his blue eyes. Son of a bitch.

The strokes of Seth's hand are getting sloppy and quicker, but just by fractions, nothing that Dean seems to notice as he slicks one of his fingers with saliva and gently pushes it into Seth, who rocks into it desperately, his hips pushing into it. His hips jerk up when Dean slowly licks around where his finger has breached Seth, a desperate noise of need escaping Seth. He's surprised he's made it this long, if he's completely honest, that ball of heat curling in his stomach, ready to explode.

"Making all kinds of pretty noises for me, Princess," Dean coos at him and Seth can barely find it in his heart of incoherent thoughts to remind himself to scowl. "Even when I wasn't in here, you were _moaning my name_." Seth's almost positive that he's going to have to deal with Dean's smug speech as he gets off, but he's proven wrong when Dean, without much preamble, pushes the tip of his tongue past the ring of muscles in beside his finger.

His nerve-ends are screaming in sweet agony of desire, his body shaking violently as Dean's finger finds his sweet spot, giving just the lightest scratches with his fingernail that has Seth's whole body jerking. It's just one, two, three more strokes before he's coming. He makes a sound that is half incoherent and half Dean's name as he finally climaxes. His release shoots onto his chest and touches his neck with the awkward position, Dean working him through it the entire time.

He's trembling lightly afterwards as Dean helps him lay his entire body down on the bench, the shorter-haired man with a positively smug look on his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, that was fun," he offers as he stands, stretching and rolling his neck. Seth doesn't miss the other's hard-on that was prominent in his jeans. "I should let you get cleaned up. Got some things I actually have to do."

"Want me to help you take care of that before you go?" Seth asks, a smirk of his own playing on his lips, nodding to Dean's pants. Dean purses his lips, trying to fight off a grin.

"Only if I can add to the mess you already have on you," Dean tells him, waving to his chest. Seth actually laughs.

"You say it like you wouldn't have done it anyway," Seth murmurs, grabbing a fistful of Dean's jeans and tugging down.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So. I kind of just went with what I thought I could write on this. I have zero experience in anything sexual, tbh. So, reviews would be nice, but not necessary.<strong>_

_**~Ash**_


End file.
